


Keep Walking Forward

by BluePassion



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Depression, Gen, So old, he's old, sort of, steve is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6430999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluePassion/pseuds/BluePassion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steven Grant Rogers. <br/>Born: July 4th, 1918.<br/>Death: Still Alive </p><p>Still, goddamn, alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Walking Forward

His fury was resigned. His muscles did not yell for blood and violence when he fought but instead they sighed. His limbs were as tired of these same movements as he was but he still walked through them. 

Punch. Throw. Kick. Grab. Smash.

He was sure he could do this in his sleep. 

He had done this mission, this same one, countless times. New places, new faces, but all the same. Pirates here, dictators there, warlords somewhere in between. 

The worst were the old faces; the ones that haunted him in both night and day. The ones that never learned. 

Nobody ever seemed to; least of all him. 

He fought to keep violence at bay. To show the world that where ever injustice reared its head he would be there to cut it off. 

He remembered the ending of his enemies favorite saying and bile rose in his throat. 

Two heads always did grow back, didn't they? 

He didn't run towards violence or trouble, not anymore. He was old, despite his body's youthfulness. He was tired despite the newness of the world. 

He simple walked forwards, always getting back up. Standing up each time he stumbled, his mother had taught him that. 

Some days he wished she hadn't. 

Despite what he often said he just wanted to sleep. Wanted to just sleep forever but the world wouldn't allow that and neither would his friends or his own body. 

He was dismally sure his body would survive any bullet he put into his head so, instead, he clipped his helmet back on, picked up his shield, and started walking forward again.


End file.
